Evanescent
by QueenoftheWolves83
Summary: evanescent (adj.) - "fleeting, momentary". Many of life's moments are fleeting, ending far too quickly before they can be truly appreciated. Before they can truly be seen.
1. An awe-inspiring experience

**Summary:** Seeing an airship for the first time is an awe-inspiring experience for Blackjack.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own **Final Fantasy IV** or **Final Fantasy IV The After Years** nor any of it's affiliated characters. I just own my boy Blackjack (aka Jackie)

 _ **Read and Review.**_

* * *

Blackjack's chestnut colored eyes went wide as he looked upon the ship with nothing short of awe. He had never seen such a thing before. Ships of the sea he's seen aplenty, but ones sailed among the clouds? He hadn't before and so he planned to treasure this memory. To look back fondly at this moment in darker times.

He took a tentative step forward and then another, wanting a closer look. Turning to Cid, he asked, "How...how does it fly?"

"Take a guess," Cid answered but not unkindly. Jackie looked up at the airship and thought for a while, before answering, slowly, "There's an engine and a propeller. When the engine is powered, the propeller moves..."

"What else?"

Jackie took a deep breath before continuing, "But that isn't enough to get it off the ground. The wings on the sides of the ship act like the wings of a bird—generating enough force to lift the ship into the air. The sails catch the wind and it moves the airship forward."

"It's a tad more complicated than that, but you've got the gist of it," said Cid. Jackie nodded, internally pleased. He didn't know a thing about airships, but...

"I've always liked working with machines," said Jackie in a quiet voice. "It's always enjoyable taking them apart, see how they worked, and then put it back together into something better."

Cid crossed his arms, waiting. He had a suspicion on what the boy was going to ask. Had it since he brought the boy in here. All the boy had to do now was confirm it.

And that's what he did. Turning with a big grin on his face, Jackie asked, "Could you teach me how to be an engineer?"

"Prove yourself," answered Cid. "Show me you've got what it takes to build and I'll consider it."

It wasn't a yes and it wasn't a no, not yet at least, but Jackie was satisfied with the answer either way. "Thank you, Mr. Pollendina."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Finally decided to do a Final Fantasy IV (and maybe it's sequel The After Years) drabble collection. basically, these drabbles aren't drabbles for the sake of drabbles. They're more like bits and pieces of stories (or** parts **of stories)** **that I came up with but haven't made into stories yet. Mostly because I'm still deciding what direction I want to go with them.**_

 _ **Blackjack, as mentioned previously, is my OC for this game. Friends call him Jackie. Sometimes I call him Jackie to save time while writing.  
**_

 _ **Give me constructive criticism if you have any, please~**_


	2. More's the pity

**Summary:** Armor is only as evil as the one who wears it.

 _ **Training Years**_

 _ **Kain -15, Blackjack - 15, Cecil - 14**_

* * *

Cecil sometimes wondered if it was possible for the darkened armor to be eating away at his soul or at the very least staining a permanent black, corroding it beyond any help. He quickly dismissed such a thought. Armor, no matter it's color, no matter who wears it, isn't capable of doing such a thing. It was merely armor after all. Yet still, he felt he had to mention it to somebody and to Kain, he did.

"I'm a Dragoon-in-training, Cecil," Kain had replied. "Whatever answer you seek, I have it not. Perhaps Jackie might know?" He didn't mention the King because the man might try to tell Cecil that it was nothing or just stress getting to him.

Cecil didn't _want_ to ask Blackjack for help. Something about the boy rubbed him the wrong way and Blackjack felt likewise. He doubted the older boy would have an answer for him, but it was worth a shot.

He was told that the armor was all together evil and Cecil didn't believe him and he told him that. "I think the term you meant is _cursed_. Perhaps all Dark Knight armor is cursed."

"No," said Blackjack flatly, as he drilled a bolt into the engine. "I mean evil. That armor reeks of it. You'd do well to destroy it. Else you'll end up like every Blackguard before you—dead before twenty."

It wasn't a threat. It was a warning and something told Cecil that he should heed, but his response to Blackjack's words was, "I'll manage _fine_. I'm strong. If I didn't think I could handle being a Dark Knight, I wouldn't have agreed to become one."

In hindsight, Cecil realize that that was a warning he should have heeded. More's the pity that he did not.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Second drabble. This time in Cecil's perspective. The idea I had for a story featuring this is kind of hard to explain. It involved the armor being...well, I'm under the belief that Dark Knight armor is possessed by an evil spirit and that's**_ **part** _ **of the idea I had, not the whole idea.** _


	3. Praise

**Summary:** Her studies might earn Miss Adeline's praise from time to time, but Rosa knows that she still has a long ways to go before she's no longer a trainee.

 _ **Time period for this drabble - Rosa is 11 and is in-training.**_

* * *

"Very good, Trainee Farrell," Miss Adeline praised the young trainee. "Keep this up and you might make Senior Mage before your twentieth summer!"

Rosa blushed at the praise, but accepted it graciously and said, "I don't know about that. I haven't yet fulfilled the necessary requirements. No one would let me have such an important position at this point in my life."

Mages only received those roles when they've fulfilled many years of both training and teaching. Nobody would dare to appoint one to this important role if they lack the experience needed.

"Most certainly," Miss Adeline agreed. "Ah! I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm not quite ready to relinquish the title over to someone else yet."

Rosa grinned. That was like Miss Adeline. Not very quick to praise, but quick to assert that she isn't stepping don't from her position of Senior Mage any time soon. She'll be around for a long time. Hopefully, anyway.

"Now." Miss Adeline cleared her throat. "Recite to me, from strongest to weakest, the spells of a white mage and what their properties are and how much energy they require to cast."

"Right!" Rosa gave her a soldier's salute before beginning the recitation with Miss Adeline correcting her every time she misspoke or got some spells confused.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Third chapter/drabble done. I'm trying to keep these drabbles short. To make them short-lived, mere moments. So that it fits with this collections title.**_


	4. Ignore Him

**Summary:** Ricard goes and ask Kain why he has been neglecting his training.

 _ **Squire Years - Kain, 14. Takes place a year before Ricard died.**_

* * *

"Don't you know how to knock?" Kain nearly shrieked when his father barged into his room. He held an arm close to his naked chest as woman would to protect her modesty—though it was a tad pointless since he was _male_ and therefore lacked breasts, plus he was wearing trousers so his modesty was already covered. But it was the principle of it that counted, dammit!

Ricard looked at his teen son with a narrowed gaze. "What have I told you about raising your voice to me?"

"Sorry," Kain mumbled, shifting his gaze to the floor. Rule one in the Highwind house: Raising his voice at his father—at either of his parents, really—was liable to get him whacked with a belt. Having experienced those lessons of discipline, he was keen to avoid them. He took to heart the household rules and did his best to follow them. "D-did you want something, father?"

"Ser Bryant says you've been neglecting your training," Ricard said. He looked at him sharply. "Is there any particular reason why?"

Kain opened his mouth but closed it. "Just...just having difficulties with a fellow squire. He keeps...keeps bothering me." That was putting it lightly. The squire was outright _harassing_ him, but he didn't want to cause the other teen any trouble.

"You shouldn't let the affect your training, Kain," Ricard frowned. "Ignore him. Don't let him get to you."

Kain repressed a sigh. He knew his father would say that. He nodded and gave a soft, "Yes, father."

"I'll let you finish dressing," and with that Ricard took his leave, closing the door behind him.

* * *

 ** _A/N: By the way, the squire isn't sexually harassing Kain. He's just being a dick to him. Because teens can be jerks to each other._**

 ** _Let me know what you thought of this drabble. Yes. I know that so far these drabbles are mostly during their days of youth, but I'll write about their adult years as well._**


	5. Fancying someone is not an easy thing

**Summary:** Fancying someone is not as simple as one would believe.

 **Kain -17, Blackjack - 17**

* * *

"Clover fancies you, Kain," Blackjack said, sitting down beside his friend. Kain took the offered pint of ale gratefully. Normally, he didn't partake in drinking alcohol, but it had been a long day and an even longer week—he just wanted a way to relax. Yet Blackjack's words made him pause.

"Excuse me?" Kain was not sure if he heard correctly. Jackie rolled his broad shoulders—honed and strengthened by years of working as one of Cid's apprentices. He gave the blonde a side-long look, though Kain had no idea why. Perhaps the darker-haired male thought this was something he should have known already?

"Clover fancies you," he repeated. Kain blinked, surprised, before flushing faintly. He was slightly embarrassed for having Jackie repeat himself, but yet he swore he must have misheard. Or at least Jackie was pulling his leg. (Somehow he didn't think he was).

"Surely you jest!"

"I jest not. Tis the truth. Miss Clover Bailey, the elder daughter of the pub's owner, does indeed fancy you. Anyone can see it."

Kain flushed even more. "I don't see why. I'm...I'm not..." _I'm just a Dragoon. No one special,_ were the words that went unsaid yet Blackjack heard them all the same.

"You're a unique individual—there is no one else like you. I think that makes you special enough." And then Jackie's gave a half-smile before continuing, "But to know who you truly are, I think her feelings would go beyond mere 'fancy'."

"You know where my heart lies, Jackie."

"I think it would do you good to seek the love of another." Kain knew how much those words pained his friend. He tentatively reached out and grasped the other's work-calloused hand. He did not like causing his friend pain, even unintentionally.

"And what if I don't want to?" he asked quietly.

"Then I know not."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Let me know how this was. I'd like to know your thoughts.**_

 _ **Leave a review, please.**_


	6. What do you seek

**Summary:** In Mysidia, Jackie questions Cecil.

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but any OCs that appear within.

 _Set during the game after Leviathan attacked the ship._

* * *

He wished Cecil had just left him there, on the shore, to die. At least it'd be better than over a hundred eyes glaring at you, Blackjack thought. Judging him for crimes that Cecil—that _Baron_ —had committed. But they were willing to at least put him on the mend. He was grateful as he didn't want to die, but still...to be judged for crimes he hadn't even taken part in. Yet he had done nothing to stop them, so perhaps the mages were justified.

"I'm not going to heal you," the white mage attending him had said, "nor will any other white mage. These injuries will have to heal naturally. You deserve to feel the same pain many of our mages felt before they passed."

 _But it wasn't me!_ he had wanted to protest but he bit his tongue. This nation of mages wouldn't listen to him. Baron had earned to their ire, perhaps even their hate. It extended to anyone living in Baron. Blackjack thought that a bit unfair, especially for those who _hadn't_ been involved, but he could understand them to a point.

"What do you hope to accomplish?" Jackie questioned Cecil as he heard the sound of armor buckling. Suppressing a pained groan, he managed to prop himself on his elbows and continued, "What do you hope to _gain_?"

Cecil said not a word as he buckled his greaves and vambraces on. He slid his darkened sword into its sheath and buckled it around his waist. At last he said, "What I want is to atone for my sins."

Jackie hissed as a wave of pain went through him. His wounds were still tender. "Easier said than done," he muttered when the pain passed. He spoke in a louder voice as he uttered, "Even if you live a life of charity for the rest of your days, there will be no true forgiveness, no _peace_ for the wolves of your mind." When Cecil gave no response, the older man sighed and dropped back down on his pillow. "But if you want to go on a fool's journey, then there's no stopping you. Just...make sure you don't get mauled to death."

Cecil walked to the door and paused with no hand on the door handle. "I should have listened when you said this armor was evil. But I was a fool and now...I don't think even becoming a paladin will be my salvation." He opened the door and quickly exited before the other could say a word in reply.

"I'll send a white mage in to change your bandages," was the silver-haired man's farewell and the door swung closed.

* * *

 ** _A/N: I haven't had much time to write lately. I've been busy with college._**

 ** _And before anyone comments that white mages wouldn't act like that, I would like to remind you that Cecil was turned into a toad and poisoned when he talked to certain people in Mysidia, so I don't think it's too far-fetched to believe that the white mages, at that time, would be willing to heal Cecil if he were injured or anyone from Baron, really. I certainly wouldn't have been.  
_**

 ** _Let me know what you thought and if you have any constructive criticism, please do share it._**


End file.
